Burn Out or Fade Away
by Zamelot
Summary: She loved them so much she left them to save their lives. She wondered where they went wrong. Maybe it was the price to pay for gaining fame and immortality at such a young age. Everyone but him forgave her or was it that he couldn't forgive himself?
1. Fade Away

Burn out or Fade Away

Chapter One- Fade Away:

"I got something to say! It's better to burn out… than fade away!" –Def Leppard

The curiosity started in eighth grade when I read that book on Alexander the Great and how he was given the choice to live to a long good life, then die and be forgotten, or to die young and to be worshiped and considered a god. Guess what he chose?

I was born 1981, okay? How do you think I know about people like: Brian Jones, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison, and Kurt Cobain? Think about it—and don't just say that I listen to their music 'cause that's not it. (Even though I do) You give?

_They all burned out. _

Simple as that. They were all members of Club 27. The freaking Club 27. That's why we all split up, which is kinda sad because the James Dean theory was rejected about, oh say, thirty years ago, save for Kurt Cobain's situation. I left first. I decided that if anything stupid was going through their heads (let's say suicide), that I would crush their dreams of brainlessness and allow them to do what they dreaded: fade away.

They acted like a bunch of drunken fools when I told them I was quitting the band. Aoshi even used the relationship that never was against me and Hannya threatened to hunt me down like the dog I was, then (about six months later) thanked me for keeping him from doing something totally uncalled for. Three years later, Aoshi still isn't talking to me, and, to be honest, he's the only one.

Beshimi and me go out for ice cream every Friday, Shikijo and I go to the gym on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays, Hyttoko drags me to the weight loss centers in the mall whenever I can't find a good hiding spot and Hannya always manages to make me cancel my former engagements so he can take me to these super rare and expensive shows. Last week, he took me to this tribute to the Teddy Bears and even got on stage and sang "To Know Him" for me, which is so out of character for him.

I tried to get in touch with Aoshi for a couple of months already, but to no avail. He never returns my calls, never visits for Christmas, and never sends me a card on my birthday. To be frank, he hasn't gotten me a card since my sweet sixteen—and that was eight years ago! Hannya and me have been talking about getting the band back together sometime for a show or two, but with Aoshi not speaking with any of us… it's gonna be difficult. Can you believe Shikijo even suggested screwing him and performing without him? Like that'll ever happen. Aoshi practically was the Oniwa band. Him and me; the two front men.

Don't go judging Aoshi too harshly on me now. I considered him the modern day Mozart. The new Jim Morrison. The present Jimi Hendrix. Without Aoshi, we never would've been where we were. We probably would still be playing in bars along our side of the hood.

I miss him.

I wish he'd stop being so dense and realize that we've forgiven him.

Heck, I just wanna play again! I wanna lay my hands on my bass, stand in front of maybe 300,000 people, and just scream. Scream like we used to. Letting it all out.

Before we faded away—or did we?


	2. Moron

EXTENDED! AND PROOFREAD!

Chapter Two- Moron:

"When we arrived at the studio, David was a moron, so we did David the moron all day, and when we leave today…David will be a moron." –Seb (Simple Plan)

I was 16 and in my final year of torture (AKA: braces).

I was 16 when I played my first ever gig in front of 150 people.

I was 16 when I told a boy I liked him.

16 when I got rejected.

Story of my life as a rock star in only four sentences. Pretty sad, huh? Tell me about it. The last exciting thing that happened to me was when Aoshi and me did a remake of Joey Ramones's mistake and missed the stairs on the catwalk leading to a stage dive. It was one hell of a laugh for the other guys, but left a shocking aftermath for Aoshi who refused to go anywhere near the end of the stage for the next three months. It was fun to tease him during shows and ram into him in the middle of an interlude, but I guess he got over it and threw me clear off the stage one night.

That resulted in a broken hand and made me look like Brian Jones after he fought with Anita Pallenberg. Playing bass got tricky after that incident, so, I just stuck to singing and counting down the days when I'd be strong enough to lift Aoshi and toss him off the stage and to all his diehard fan girls. (It usually happened in my dreams).

Several of the most memorable memories (say that three times fast) that I'd like to bring to light is when we were on tour, being interviewed, and when we made our first album. You know? Let's start with that first.

I'd like to say that it was a breezy summer day and that I'd just gotten back from the beach with Kaoru and Tokio, but it wasn't and I wasn't. In fact, it was a crappy summer day (ya know; 100 humidity and over 98 degrees) and I had just gotten back from getting my braces tightened. Soooooo, I was in a really crappy mood when I entered Hannya's garage (where we usually practiced) and found Aoshi in the best mood I'd ever seen him in. (note: he was smirking. The closest thing to a smile that I'd get.)

Turned out that the songs we'd recorded and sent out about a year and a half ago (even though Aoshi said it was only three months ago) had just been returned and accepted! The dude at the record company (Okina or something) liked our stuff and was gonna help us make a record! Of course, that right there replaced my pathetic teeth-loathing mood to an Aoshi-I'm-gonna-hug-ya mood. (Even though he'd told me hugging was a no-no with him). But that mood didn't last too long because he kept yelling at me during practice with "Your bass is outta tune; tune it!" or "Look, Misao, I know you can't sing but can you at least try?" He got me so ticked at one point, that when we started singing Kyoto Arc, I sang "Hollaback Girl" instead and he almost threw his guitar at me.

After that abusive practice, we went home for the night and Aoshi told me to dress like a girl the next day as to make a nice impression for the record company dude. In result, I yelled back that he should dress like a guy for once (lame comeback). I swear that I didn't get a wink of sleep that night because I was so freaked. It always seemed that way. You try really hard to get somethin' and when you finally get it, you feel you'll never do as good when someone is watching you. Instead of sleeping in on Mondays like I usually do in the summer (since you can't during the school year) I got up at four in the morning and retuned my bass and replayed all our songs.

I eventually succeeded in waking up Tokio (my cousin) and her boyfriend (I wasn't trying; I swear), but she was real good about it and pep talked me all morning. But, her boyfriend, Saito, (he should die) found some amusement in my nail biting nervousness (he always did) and told me that two out of every ten local bands ever become big. The other eight become drunks, drug dealers, and molesters; he said he dealed with them the most (he's a cop). Pfft. Like that was supposed to make me feel better.

After breakfast, Tokio suggested that I get out and loosen up before heading down to Aoshi's and driving myself insane. Soooo, after chillin' with Kaoru and doin' zilch, I went home and picked out my clothes (probably goin' through my entire wardrobe and half of Tokio's). After what seemed like an eternity of trying on clothes and pulling them off, I found something my style, but would so knock Aoshi off his feet and not to mention, shove in his face that I can look like a girl. I decided on a Tinker bell like mini skirt, a white Morrison Hotel button up, fishnets, high tops, and as much street wear as I could find. Tokio took one look at me and turned the radio up to 102.1.

I grabbed my bass and rushed to Aoshi's hoping that he wouldn't penalize me for being late because my make up took FOREVER (the Gerard Way look is hard to get). On my way there, I just HAD to slam headlong into this old man. He looked at me like I was totally out of it before grunting his acceptance of my thousand apologies. However, what really ticked me off was that after I thought I'd left him in the dust and set back on track to Ice's—I—I mean _Aoshi's_, I noticed that the old man was right on my tail.

If there's one thing I hate more than being stared at, it's being followed (it happens at least once every month). So, I did the reasonable thing:

I took off.

I arrived at Aoshi's all sweaty, shaky, and spastic. He was not happy to see me so late, so disheveled, and so me.

"Where the hell've you been? The guy's been here for fifteen minutes already," he snapped through his teeth.

I huffed. "Well, sor-ee! I was being followed by some psycho old guy, so I ran," I told him, entering the house. I stopped dead the moment I entered the living room. "You're that psychopathic Jiya!" I shouted.

The man seated beside Hannya on the couch looked up and smiled. "And you're that psychotic chic who hits and runs,"

"I apologized!"

Aoshi stepped into the room behind me and laid a hand on my shoulder. I was still spazing, so I jumped at the contact.

"This is Misao, our lead bassist. She's usually late for everything, so don't mind her," he mumbled.

I attempted to snarl at him, which was hard, since my braces were tightened a day ago. "Hey, Jiya! How'd you get here so fast? You were right behind me,"

"You took off down a different street. I just made a right and was here," he responded looking me up and down.

Aoshi rolled his eyes and yanked on my braid. "Lost easy, too. We're gonna have to buy you a cell phone as to not loose you permanently,"

I brushed him away in annoyance and headed toward Hannya who was seated on the couch. "Yeah, Aoshi, cause you can't afford to loose me or all you've worked so hard for will go right down the toilet."

Jiya cleared his throat. We all looked toward him with a snap of our heads. He looked slightly uptight, but easygoing at the same time. He brought his hands up to the pink bow tied at his goatee and pulled on it.

"As you know, I sent you a letter about the songs you sent in a few months ago,"

Whoa, this was going to be boring. I can feel it already. Old dude who doesn't have the slightest clue as to how to communicate with teenagers. Ah, Guitar Girl flashback.

"I thought they were awesome,"

Oh! Feelin' special.

"I'm guessing that you listen to maybe Nirvana, the Doors, or Robert Johnson—"

"All three," Beshimi put in.

"Oh. They had a major influence over quite a few of your songs. "Okashira" maybe was based off of Johnson's style or Hendrix's, "Opium", Nirvana, and "Onmitsu" probably a blend of the Doors, Beatles, and Jay and the Americans?"

Yo, this guy knew his music. He's pretty darn good if I don't say so myself.

"I really, really enjoyed them. I was playing them 24/7 and my daughters were getting annoyed with me. Heck, I even sang them in the shower,"

I smiled at him brightly. "Would you like for us to play some of them for you now so that you know that it's us playing them and not someone else?"

He made a face and contemplated the idea. "As much as I like you…. Nah. I believe you. Besides, I'd like to see you live and in front of an audience. Now that would be incredible."

I leaned backward against Hannya and Aoshi suddenly appeared behind me.

"So, Misao. Are you still going to school?" he asked.

"Yeah. Regions are coming up, so…. yeah."

"Regions are next year, Misao," Aoshi reminded me and sat on half of the couch and half of me.

I shrugged (as much as I could). "Whatever,"

"Soooooooo……… how does next Wednesday sound?" Jiya asked.

We started. "What?" Hyottoko asked.

"Next Wednesday. For your first gig under the management of Rurouni Records?" Jiya repeated.

Shikijo jumped. "Already? But we just met you!"

"Uh-huh. So let's start now. You guys are great. If we start now, you could be the next…. Stones!"

I looked at Aoshi who looked back at me.

"Sure. This Wednesday."

* * *

I redid this chapter and extended it. Hey! I had 105 hits and only one person reviewed me. That's not funny people. That's sad. I'd like a little feed back if you'd be so kind as to. THANK YOU NONAME JANE! I love you! See? She's my new friend even though I have no idea who she really is. Go to my bio page to hear more of my ranting. I was half asleep when I did it though, so it may not make any sense. You can also go to Seraph's Symphony to hear more about why reviewing is good. I'd just like to know what people think. Is that too much to ask? 


	3. Ninja Inc

_Here's my extended version. I hope I don't have too many errors on it. I've been writing it all day. I tried to put Megumi in character, but she's real hard to figure out. I'm still trying with her, so no penalizing me! Alright. Here we go. The extended and proofread chapter three!_

* * *

Chapter three- Ninja Inc.

"You eet me chicken!" –Keith Richards

I tugged at the black plaited skirt I had thrown on this morning and shifted from foot to foot as we waited to get called onto the… stage… if you can call it that. From behind me, Aoshi hissed into my ear: " 'Sao, _stop moving!_"

I seriously couldn't help it. We were gonna be interviewed by this… interviewer— on TV! I don't watch TV much, sos I don't remember this jane's name. I peaked out from behind the curtain at the stage where the TV people were filming the intro.

"And today, don't we have something special," Dang. That's gonna be us. "They're a local band from the projects, but are the total image of cool. Give it up for…the Oniwa-Band!"

That's us. We are so not the "image of cool". C'mon! How cool can you be with an Emily Strange bag, a Corpse Bride t, and high tops? The "coolest" one among us was Aoshi—and he made up for crappy wear with incredibly good looks! I'm not particularly fond of Aoshi, but I know for a fact that he's hot. That is the nicest thing you'll hear from me about him. Besides that he's a great guitarist.

"Oh, Misao—can I call you, Misao? You don't know how long I've waited to meet you!"

No, you cannot call me Misao. (Although Miss I'm-gonna-kick-yer-butt is fine) "Is that so," was all I could think to say out loud.

"Yes! I heard Opium and Onmitsu on the radio and fell absolutely in love with you guys!"

I forced a smile and nodded nudging Aoshi beside me to help me out. Okay. How much were they paying this chick to say that crap? "I'm glad you like them. They're a lot of fun to play,"

"Okay: Misao? Tell me: where did you get that bag? I'm sooo lovin' it right now,"

"…Street vender?"

"Good enough. Next question: who does what?"

"Hyottoko's on drums, Hannya on guitar, Aoshi lead guitar and vocals, Beshimi on bass, Shikijo on either bass or guitar, and me as lead vocals and lead bass,"

"By the way, how old are all of you—and is Aoshi still single?"

"Hannya and Shikijo are the oldest: 20, Hyottoko is 19, Beshimi and Aoshi, 18, and me; I'm 16,"

She awed. She awed. I don't think you understand: _She awed_! You don't _aw_ at me unless you want a different face. "So you're the baby of the band!"

I was so gonna slap this girl after this thing was over. "That's pushing it. No. Had these guys been my parents, they'd have thrown me out of the house by the time I was 13," I paused to unlocked my jaw like Johnny Depp did 100 times throughout "Secret Window". Remember; braces. "I consider myself the girl." Obviously. I certainly can't see Aoshi trying to fit in one of my skirts. Well, maybe in a nightmare.

"Who writes your lyrics?" she asked suddenly.

"Usually Aoshi or me. But most of the time, it's whoever can write a song and hand it over,"

"So you guys write your own music and everything?"

I gave her a weird look. "Who doesn't these days?"

"When I look over your lyrics… are any of you junkies?"

Beshimi practically spat the water he'd been drinking back out. "What makes you say that?" he spluttered.

"Well, when I look at "Opium". _Now I've been dragged into a bright oblivion and waves are crashing over my head _seems a little… like you're well…"

Shikijo interrupted her. "Well, what about Weezer's "We're All on Drugs"? Has anyone asked them if they're really on drugs?"

She shrugged. "Well Weezer's just weird. They probably are, but who cares! We're talking about you!"

After the interview was over, I couldn't help but cringe the moment she left. I seriously couldn't stand her. She was like so… ostentatious; I guess was the right word. I think her name was Marilyn or something… Marilyn… Mandy… Manson… Megan… Meg—Meg—Megumi! That was it! That was it! Megumi. That's sad because I actually like the name Megumi. Just when we were about to leave, Megumi ran after us still as annoying as before.

"I didn't want to ask you guys while we were live, but have you… um…met…. The…the…"

From beside me, Hannya shifted, rolled his eyes, and sighed heavily. Okay, girl; spit it out… We don't have all day. "Krypto the Super dog" starts in 45 minutes and I really don't want to miss it.

"Have you guys met the Fight Merchants?"

Was she kidding me? If I had any chance of meeting the Fight Merchants, Kaoru would've strapped herself to my back and agreed to be our groupie. She has this unnatural obsession with the lead singer, Kenshin and their bassist, Enishi. I personally don't care for them, because they're kind of like Green Day. Their old stuff is awesome, and their new stuff is… eh……… Now, they're kinda like wannabe scream-o, ya know? Kenshin is always singing these weirdo songs that make me think of Dale from Meg Cabot's Boy Meets Girl. He just rants on and on about how Tomoe isn't in the kitchen or bathroom anymore. Not to be mean or anything, but no one cares where the hell Tomoe whatsherface is.

"No," I admitted to Megumi. "We haven't."

Her face fell. "Oh. Well, when you do, can you tell Sano that the Fox says hi?"

I forced another smile at her. "Sure. If we get lucky enough to meet them."

She smiled at me. "Great! So are you guys gonna perform tonight in the Garden?"

I looked at Aoshi. I didn't know about that. Why didn't I know about that? Who's been talking importance while I was catching zs? "Are we?"

"Yeah," Aoshi replied. "We're sharing the stage with The Fight Merchants, matter of fact."

I was gonna strangle him. Why bother letting me run my mouth when you already know the answer? So much for Krypto. It's back to strummin', hummin', and, sadly, no bummin'.

"Let's go, weasel. We got practicing to do," Beshimi called after me.

I slouched over and followed them to our beat up Station Wagon. As soon as we got in, I flew to the radio and popped in my Ramones CD blasting "I wanna be sedated" as high as I could take it for our ride back to the hotel.

"_Twenty, twenty, twenty four hours to go, I wanna be sedated. Nothing to do, no way to go home; I wanna be sedated. Just put me in a wheelchair and_—hey—hey—hey! Aoshi!"

Aoshi removed my CD, handed it to Shikijo, and replaced my CD with his of Van Morrison. Now don't get me wrong; I love Van, but I totally wasn't in the mood for him now. I wanted something that I could bounce around to. Maybe I should go out and buy Gwen Stefani's new album. She may not be rock, but I was always taught that if a song's got a catchy beat; go for it! I hunched over in my seat as "Moondance" blasted through the speakers around us.

_Well it's a marvelous night for a moondace_

_With the stars up above in your eyes_

_A fantabulous night to make romance_

_Beneath the cover of October skies_

_You know the leaves on the trees are falling_

_At the sound of the breezes that blow_

_And I'm trying to please to the calling _

_Of your heartstrings that play soft and low_

* * *

Had I been around in the 60s, I'd have probably had the time of my life! (Probably would've ended up a junkie and died of an OD, too, but that's not the point!) The best guitarist _in the universe_… is Jimi Hendrix. Ya hear me? Jimi. Hendrix. I learned to play guitar when I was 14 just by listening to him. He was simply incredible. 

Sorry. I rant like crazy when I'm nervous. Some dude…Otowa something (reporter) asked Jiya if he could interview me privately for some teen magazine. Of course had to Jiya agree without my permission. I didn't like being out with desperate story finders like this one without the other guys. I guess you could say that I felt… unprotected and fidgety when they weren't with me. Ha! Shows how confident I am.

"Misao, darling?" I redid the Johnny Depp jump from "Finding Neverland" when his servant came up from behind him during dinner. I looked up to see Oto… Ota… the reporting dude standing behind me holding two drinks in his hands. I eventually found a gianormous chocolate milkshake sitting in front of me. Completely distracted with the chocolate substance in front of me, I barely noticed the reporter take a seat across from me. However, I did notice him take out a tape recorder from his bag and immediately felt like I was being questioned by a cop all over again.

I lifted my drink to my mouth and gulped down what I could without giving myself brain freeze. Otosomething then smiled at me and held out his hand. "Afternoon, Misao. My name's Otowa Hyoko and I believe that your manager told you of the purpose of my wanting to interview you?"

I slurped loudly and swallowed. "He actually just touched on it. Said something about you wanting to start a female revolution in the music biz? I don't know. I don't really listen to Jiya much."

"You're on the right track. Be honest with me: how many female rock artists do you know of that were famous?"

"Debbie Harry of Blondie, ummmmm, Courtney Love from Hole, Pat Benetar, Joan Jett of the Blackhearts, Janis Joplin, Karen Carpenter, Mariana Faithful could also go in there, uh, uh, uh…"

Otowa smiled. "My point exactly. Not many there. Now, how about naming all the males?"

"Jim Morrison, Kurt Cobain, Jimi Hendrix, Bob Dylan, Dion, the Everly Brothers, uh, Van Morrison, Joey, Johnny, Dee Dee, and Tommy Ramone, Ozzy Osborne, the Young brothers, Brian Johnson, Bon Scott, Mick Jagger, Brian Jones, Keith—"

"Okay! Okay. You can stop. Anyway. That's why I want you. Not the other guys; you," I then realized that he had the tape recorder off the whole time. "Now, let's being, shall we?" Now he turned it on.

I totally didn't want to end up like Molly from Guitar Girl, so I reviewed her conversation with the reporter in my head and made a mental list of all the do's and don'ts in an interview.

"What made you guys want to start a band?"

"Well, we were actually sparring buddies first. After we met, we agreed to meet every week at the dojo at the back of my house. We did that for a while, but then, one afternoon me and Aoshi—"

"Aoshi and I," he interrupted.

"Naw, you weren't there—we came in wearing the exact same Jimi Hendrix shirt and started up this whole conversation about music that we even forgot to spar that day. Eventually, that's all we did: talk music. Day in and day out. We'd forward each other these ancient music videos we found on the Internet, share our albums with one another, got shopping in random record stores every Friday, exchange biographies about any rock star we could find…. The works."

"Did you automatically decide to form a band and name it Oniwa?" he asked.

"Well… we'd bring it up occasionally since he shared with me that he played guitar and I shared with him that I played bass, but we were never serious about it because we felt that we had too many responsibilities outside of the music world," I paused to take another gulp of my drink. "When we did decide to form a band to pass the time during Christmas vacation, we called it 'Ninja Inc.' because our families were all somehow involved with ninjas back in the past in Japan."

"Oh. That's interesting. You could really pass off as a ninja girl with the type of looks you have. You should try wearing an Asian outfit when you go on stage next time. Maybe something blue and yellow or pink and purple. You'd look adorable,"

Was this guy for real? "Uh, thanks?"

"So what made you change to Oniwa?" he inquired.

"Our families' Ninja gang was called the Oniwabanshu. They were all part of the same clan, but were involved in different branches, thus, Oniwa Band,"

"Are you and Aoshi…you know?"

I really hate it when people assume that. I thought back to Manning's Guitar Girl and of Molly's countdown of all her best quotes. "No! Of course not. In fact we're actually married—but it's only legal in the country of Luxemburg," so it was a rip off from Guitar Girl. So what? It's not like anyone's ever read it before. (Watch. 5000 people penalize me for quoting their favorite book without permission.)

He laughed. "Is that so? Really. I never would've guessed it. You two are perfect for each other, you know?"

I made a face. Sure. I liked Aoshi, but we were almost always fighting about whatever annoyed us about each other. I was annoyed at how he could sit and think for _hours_, I'm serious, _hours_… and not fall asleep or anything. He was annoyed at how I could run my mouth for hours and not run out of things to say. "No. We are complete opposites. Trust me. I've known him longer than you have,"

"Well, have you ever heard of the term 'opposites attract'?"

I tried to brush it off. "Don't even try to feed me that crap. I'm not like one of those black magic freaks. They died out in the sixties."

I was actually in an unutterable, unbelievable, unrealistic, un-unhappy mood for the first time since we went under Rurouni Records management. After the interview, I sneaked out and dropped by Kaoru's to hang out and get a break from the band. The moment she saw me standing on her doorstep, she jumped at me and screamed… about how I must have some Kenshin on me still from when he gave me a hug.

And here I was thinking she was happy to see me. At the end of the concert with the Fight Merchants, Kenshin, who had taken an immediate liking to me, gave me a friendly hug before he left to go back to his hotel. Their music may not be of my liking now, but they really know how to put on a show. Enishi is an awesome bassist! While they were playing, I sat in front of Enishi and watched him play the entire show. He looked like he was trying with every fiber of his being not to laugh at the awestruck expression on my face that night. I liked him and Kenshin, but Sano and Yahiko… just irritated me. They were both… just guys. Listen up, ladies! Boys are gross! And I speak from experience.

When I left Kaoru's (I swear, I escaped. Not left. Escaped) two days later and headed back to Hannya's garage, I found Aoshi was waiting for me in the front yard, a magazine under his arm. When I approached him (cautiously) he gave me a stern look, which eventually softened.

"So, our union's only legal in Luxemburg, is it?" he asked smirking.

Recognition of the magazine struck me. Already, huh? I smirked back. "Yeah! Where've you been? The United States?" I remarked sarcastically.

He rolled his eyes and handed me the magazine then picked up his guitar and headed inside.

**Ninja Inc.**

**Last Saturday I had the pleasure of meeting Misao of the new rock band, Oniwa. Misao (16) was kind enough to meet me in a coffee shop downtown and answer any questions I had for her. I began with the obvious. Where did the band name come from? "Our families' were ninja descendants of the same clan called Oniwabanshu. So, we decided to call ourselves the Oniwa Band. At first we started with calling ourselves Ninja Inc, but that seemed corny." A very original bunch, wouldn't you say? **

**I then went onto the next question. Was she and Aoshi dating? She seemed flustered when answering this one. Her face turned as red as her ACDC shirt. "No! Of course not. We're actually married, but the union's only legal in the country of Luxemburg." Quite original if you ask me. Well. Give up on him, girls! **

_

* * *

I forgot to mention in the previous chapter that Guitar Girl is a novel written by... Sarah... Mah... Man... Sarah Manning--I think. It was a good book. If you ever have the opportunity to read it, you should. The lyrics are a little corny (Not that mine aren't gonna be) but it had a good storyline. I read it after I began to write Burn out, just to let you know. The rip off line that Misao took was originally: "Dean and I aren't dating. Actually, we're married, but the union's only legal in the state of Oklahoma" or something. I don't remember. Another great line from that book was: "Our main inspiration was Atomic Kitten. When we heard them on the radio, we thought 'Oh my God, we can do so much better'. "_

_"I wanna be sedated" is by the Ramones (1970something) and "Moondance" is by Van Morrison (1970) I keep forgetting to add that I obviously don't own the characters to Rurouni Kenshin, but their songs I do. Well, my songs._

_I just wanna thank the people who reviewed me. I really appreciate it and it really does make me feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside. Haha! I'm playin... I'm playin..._


	4. Purple Haze

_This, like all the other chapters will be extended. Probably. Or I just might make the next chapter longer. I'll think on it. Two more chapters and I'm done! Reviews are highly appreciated! Critizism is accepted with acceptance! By the way, I update my bio page really often, and if you're looking for a jumble of randomness, just click my name! oh, randomness is frequent when I'm half asleep. _

* * *

Chapter Four: Purple Haze

"I tell ya folks, it's harder than it looks. It's a long way to the top if you wanna rock'n'roll"

--ACDC

I suppose that if I had been the old average everyday Misao treading these same streets on my way home from my late shift at my job at the Record Store, I wouldn't have looked twice at the bulletin hovering above me. Most of the time, it had been Britany Spears advertising Pepsi, but since Pepsi fired her for drinking coke in public, the bulletin had been plain, white, and blank. So, it startled me when, one evening, I glanced up at it and saw myself standing up in a black Ramones muscle shirt, long fishnet gloves, and matching torn up jeans with the rest of the band members advertising our new album which was going to be released in a few weeks.

I didn't consider our band famous. Famous was Jimi Hendrix, Led Zepplin, the Beatles, and the Doors. Famous were people who worked their way to the top and kept themselves there even after they were dead. We weren't famous. Sure we'd been in the paper, but we were always in the paper for some stupid stunt we'd pulled, like slashing the school principal's tires and black mailing him to get out of detention. Sure we'd been on TV, but being on TV is like filming with a home camera and hooking it up to the television set.

Yeah, we're having an album put out. But that's like burning our songs onto a CD and making copies for our pals; only this time, thousands—no billions of complete strangers would be listening to our music, knowing our names, and memorizing our faces. It made me uncomfortable and embarrassed to know that people would want to know everything about me, including my favorite pair of socks, and that I'd wanted to know the same thing about my idols.

I was snapped out of my trance when the cell phone Aoshi bought for me began to ring to "People are Strange". After digging it up out of my sling bag, and glancing at the caller id, I groaned. Aoshi.

"Buddy the elf, what's your favorite color?" Will Ferrel did an awesome job on that movie.

"Misao, where are you?"

I glanced quickly at the bulletin again before tuning my back on it. "Five blocks from the Record Store in front of the old Anti-Coke let's make in fun of Britnay Spears bulletin. Why?"

"Don't move,"

"What? Wait! Aoshi—no! Don't hang…" a beeping sound overcame the other end "…up,"

I _hated_ when he did that! I strangled the phone in front of me, earning a few weird looks from unsuspecting kids. I kept my head down and leaned against the wall awaiting Aoshi. There was no need for a long wait. After about two minutes—I'm serious. Two minutes—there he was just a-walking down the street _singing do la ditty ditty ditty dum ditty do. _(That was just for me.)

"Misao," he called.

"Aoshi," I called back.

As he approached me, he glanced up at the bulletin. He, unlike me, was unfazed by it.

"Where are the other guys?" I inquired.

He shrugged, his black Iron Maiden shirt ruffling slightly in the breeze. "Dunno. Probably out screwing some girls,"

I shuddered. That was more than I needed to know. "So why didn't you go and join them?" I asked jokingly.

He loosely wrapped an arm around my shoulders as we walked to the store. "Didn't feel like it. I haven't gone out with you to a Record Store since Christmas. What the hell? I wanna look for a live Who album,"

"Yeah. There's also this book on the Ramones that I've been eyeing. Now that I've got the bread, I can eat," I murmured. I nudged him slightly. It wasn't that I didn't trust him, I just didn't trust him. "What's the real reason you didn't go?"

"I told you," he looked down at me. "I haven't spent anytime with my weasel since last year."

I lunged at his mouth; nose first, to see if I could detect any aroma of alcohol on his breath. When I found none, I grabbed a handful of his shirt and sniffed it to check for any scent of cigarettes, pot, or any coke. I was about to check his arms for track marks, when he pulled me into a tight, suffocating headlock.

"What do you take me for!"

He stopped in front of the store as I struggled for my release. He led me in and, from the corner of my eye, I saw Cho, the cashier, watching us in amusement as I tried to grab hold of Aoshi's growing out hair. With a mere trick of his wrist, he had me on the floor. I sat there as he shuffled through some CDs ranking my brain for a mature way to handle this situation. That was happened to be simply getting up and walking beside him.

"I had the weirdest dream last night," I stated as if nothing had happened.

He glanced at me, then back at the Aerosmith CD in his hands. "Is that so?" he replied obviously more interested in the album than me.

I brushed it off and continued, trying to hold myself from throttling his neck. "Yeah. It was of Kenshin and some other guys that I no longer recall,"

At the sound of Kenshin, Aoshi looked up at me.

"We were walking down the street, and shoplifting. Then Kenshin showed up, and he was a little kid, by the way, and he started singing—we started singing—End Song,"

Aoshi peered at me with a raised brow. "All right?"

"Yeah. That was it,"

Aoshi returned to his CD and shrugged.

* * *

I kneeled down on the stage and adjusted the tuning knobs on my bass. The crowd before me talked excitedly amongst themselves creating an enjoyable buzz around the stage. Well, at least to me. You know how when you blast the radio in the car and you get that buzzing, hammering feeling rising up from your stomach to you chest? That was the feeling I had now. I stood up and faced the audience who immediately erupted in applause. 

"How's it going, people!" I shouted into the microphone. They eagerly replied to my question, but that resulted in an earsplitting jumble of screams. Before I started a show, I liked to aim unanswerable questions at my viewers. "Have you ever wondered why they clean lethal injection needles before they use them?" I seriously wondered this one. Hannya told me that all needles are sterile, but that didn't answer my question. They were gonna kill the person anyway! "As you all know," I continued. "Our album, Kyoto Arch, is going to be released tonight at midnight. After some serious pleading on my part, I got the record company to present everyone present here with one of their own!" They stadium exploded.

I'm serious it did. I actually recoiled and almost ran backstage. Whenever I went to a concert, I was always hoping that the band might present us with their new album. So, for this show, I put myself in the audience's shoes, since I had been there so many times before. Had I been a fan(atic) about this band, I'd be right along with them screaming my heart out.

"I'm relieved to know that you all are acting positively about this, and so, if you don't mind my saying: Let the show begin,"

I looked over at Aoshi who nodded. We started with Okashira. The blasting guitars, the hypnotizing shrieks, the humming of the basses and beating of the drums. Like always, I was in a different world.

* * *

_People are Strange is by the Door. That dream Misao had is really similar to the one I had this morning. Except, that it was Billy Joe Armstrong instead of Kenshin. He was singing Wake Me Up When September Ends. _


	5. Burn Out

_This one's the second to last chapter. It's depressing and leads back to how the story started. I would gladly appriciate any form of critizism. The ending may seem rushed. I'm sorry if it did. The last chapter is probably going to be long. Chapter Four was rushed. I was disappointed with it. _

* * *

Chapter Five: Burn Out

"Live fast, die young, and leave behind a good looking corpse." –James Dean

The summer went by quickly. Before I knew it, I was waking up at five Monday morning and getting ready to go to school. Well, actually, I _tried to go._ I made it to school, but once I got there, it was like being at a concert but with everyone throwing themselves at you without the protection of the security guards. It scared the hey outta me. Half the male population of the school was eyeing me as if I were one of the best looking girls in the school. Not to make myself seem plain, but 99.9 of those guys just the prior year hadn't even known I'd existed—save for Aoshi and Beshimi.

When I get people all of a sudden wanting to be my friend, I get extremely awkward. You have absolutely no idea how scary my first day back was. I had cheerleaders approaching me as if I were their best friend, when just four months ago, they were looking down their noses at me, or simply not looking at me at all. Guys that I'd admired from afar where making vulgar advances on me as if I were one of the girls who enjoyed that type of thing.

Now, when I confess what I'm about to confess, I hope I have your utmost sympathy.

I dropped out of school.

Let me explain why:

10.The pressure. When people are asking you for your John Hancock left and right, your hand starts to cramp.

9.The cheerleaders. I have nothing against them personally, but the ones that I've met were just—bleah

8.The jocks. THEY ARE SO TOTALLY ANNOYING! THEY DON"T UNDERSTAND THE MEANING OF "NO, NOW GET LOST!"

7. The teachers. I admit that I was not a favored student. Our teachers went by the code. Keep popular with the popular kids and steer clear of the non-popular ones. Now every teacher in the school is acting as if I were their best friend in the whole world, but I'm not, I'm their freaking student!

6.The freshmen. Now, I have absolutely nothing against freshmen. I mean, I was a freshman at one point and hated when the upper class men picked on me (not that they don't anymore). But every time I walk down the hall, they scream and ask me to X really… inappropriate parts of their body.

5.The doors. (The object not the band) I'll just skip over this.

4.My gosh darn locker. It's the only thing that's rejecting me.

3. Regions. I've been all over the country all summer and don't remember _anything _of what I learned last year.

2. Aoshi. He's been real clingy for some reason.

1. Seta Soujiro. The guy that I've admired only since the first year of my life.

In case you misread the last part, reread it. Yup. Soujiro. I used to think the world

of him. He was sweet and nice and smart and talented… you get the drill. But whenever I used to try to talk to him or answer a question he proposed, he'd look past me as if I wasn't there. Remember when I said before about telling a boy I liked him and getting rejected. Right there. I told Soujiro I liked him, thinking that now that I'm famous that he'd return my feels. BUZZ. Wrong.

This is one of the many lessons I learned about money. I mean, sure I'd been told that money can't buy you happiness, but I never thought about it in depth. Now I understand what it meant. Just because I was well known and had a record out doesn't mean that everybody was going to feel differently about me. Well, now they know that I have some form of a talent, but—

Oh my gosh, I'm such a hypocrite. Not too long ago, I was saying how I wasn't famous at all. I'M NOT! I admit that! I'M NOT FAMOUS!

Did that get through? Should I say it again?

I let it get to my head. I did what no true musician should've done. I let fame get to my head. Where are those voices in the back of your head when you need them? Would Jimi Hendrix have let stuff like this get to his head? No, I think not. Jim Morrison, maybe, but not Jimi Hendrix. Just kidding. I love Jim. He's my favorite…poet. (People _are_ strange.)

As I reread my list of reasons of why I dropped out, I feel more and more depressed. I'm a fool. An idiot. A moran. A reject. A loser. I don't hate school like most people. I like learning new things and reading new books. My reasons show how much of a follower I am. I hate myself for it.

The years passed by quickly and as they progressed, the guys and me created a strong bond that couldn't be broken by the outside world. Aoshi and Beshimi dropped out soon after me and we decided to get to work on our next record. We looked out for each other and never let money get to our heads.

Sorry, but do I hear a record scratching.

I would so like it to be that way, but it never was. Sorry if I had you going there for a moment. Aoshi and Beshimi dropping out was true as was our decision to make our new album. However, as the years passed, we drifted from one another. It was not my decision. I promise you. I learned my lesson. But it looked like they still needed to learn theirs.

"Misao,"

I hit the roof. "WHAT!" I really hated when he sneaked up behind me.

Aoshi plopped down on the floor beside me and took my bass from my hands. "I've got a great idea. Two, actually," He began fingering the tune Atomic from Blondie.

I didn't know what to think about Aoshi. One minute he could be acting as if I weren't around, the next he'd be so overprotective, it disgusted me. "Let's hear it,"

He put down the bass and looked me straight in the eye. He looked a little high, to be honest. "Let's tell everyone we've eloped, then let the other guys tell the press that we performed the ancient Japanese lover's suicide."

"Yeah, then we'll hide out in Africa for twenty years and contact everyone with the code name Mr. Mojo Risin," I remarked sarcastically. What the hell's he been smoking! "Are you insane?"

"No. I'm actually serious," he responded.

I looked at him. I mean _really_ looked at him. It was probably the first time that I actually actually looked at him. He had black hair that fell elegantly into his eyes. Blue eyes. No—wait. They weren't blue. No! Yes they were. Green, maybe? No, no, defiantly blue—I think.

He was beautiful.

No. Beautiful sounds too girly. Handsome didn't quite match up to what I was thinking, and hot…. Nah! I don't know what he was, but I know for sure that if he hadn't continued speaking, I would've been staring at him for the rest of the night.

"You've changed, Misao,"

Well, I'm defiantly not 16 anymore. After three years of living with you, it's enough to make me change.

"A couple of years ago, you would've been the one to come up with the idea,"

"Well, it shows us who's matured and who hasn't," I snapped.

He stared at me. And stared. And stared. WHAT DO YOU WANT?

"Some girl came up to me today asking for money for an abortion,"

I chocked. "What!"

"Yeah. I didn't even know her," he frowned. "But then again, she's not the first one, either,"

I gaped. Maybe I hadn't heard him right. Maybe I was thinking of it in the wrong way. Maybe…maybe…maybe I had heard him right, but just didn't want to believe it. Before I could snap back to reality by myself, Aoshi took hold of my chin and coaxed me to look up at him.

"You had your braces removed,"

Yeah! Only about three years ago. My head was spinning. I was frozen. No matter how much I tried to will myself to look away from Aoshi's blue/green eyes, I just couldn't. Time stopped. All there was was Aoshi and me sitting on the floor in our living room at the hotel we were staying at.

"Misao," he muttered softly just slightly above a whisper.

I couldn't think. I had no idea what to do. All I knew was that Aoshi was sitting—no, I was sitting in his lap, his hands were pressing against the small of my back and the back of my head, and my arms were around his neck, and he smelled really good. Like…green tea, actually. That was an odd smell…. But who cared! The number one bachelor on the entire western hemisphere was kissing me. ME! Makimachi Misao! Shinomori—Shinomori. Shinomori Ao—

I suddenly realized what I was doing.

I was kissing Shinomori Aoshi.

The lead guitarist in our band.

One of the so called "hottest celebrity men" on the face of the planet.

And, I'm sorry to say, my best guy friend.

I was unbelievable.

I shoved away from him, gasping for air. I'd never been kissed before and this was on hell of a first kiss. I found myself lying on the floor with my shirt half way up my stomach. He looked questioningly at me and made a move as to kiss me again, but I pushed him away. He wasn't high. If there was one thing I could brag about, it was my keen sense of smell. There was no smell of smoke or alcohol on his breath, no track marks on his arms, and Shinomori Aoshi would never take pills. If I could tell you his deepest darkest secret, it's that he's just as afraid of pills as I am of needles. Aoshi was in his right mind.

"What's the matter with you?" I asked, my voice outlined in disgust. "What the hell were you thinking?" I looked at him again. "Do you have any idea of what you just did?"

I surprised myself by not screaming. I was so pissed off at him it wasn't funny. He gave me the ghost of a fleeting smile.

"Relax, who's gonna know?"

I lost it. All sense of ration went straight out the window. I slapped him hard across the face and tackled him. Maybe, if the situation hadn't been so serious, it would've been comical—the fight, I mean… No. Not really. I was a banshee. I was punching, kicking, scratching, trying to gorge his eyes out; and I might have too—if Jiya and the others hadn't walked in that very moment.

Shikijo and Hannya dove for Aoshi while Jiya, Beshimi, and Hyottoko tried to pry me off him I was screaming and fighting and …and screaming.

"Who gonna know!" I shrieked. "Who's gonna know! I'm gonna know; that's who! I'm gonna know!"

Shikijo had to wrap both his arms around my frame, pinning both my arms to my sides and carrying me out of the room while Aoshi nursed the long scratches down his face and busted lip I'd given him.

It took me about an hour to calm down, but I was still majorly ticked. Ticked at Aoshi for using me as a cheap thrill, ticked at Jiya for trying to pry what had happened out of me, ticked at Hannya, ticked at Hyottoko—ticked at everybody! But the person I was ticked off at the most was… moi. Yo. Watashi. Ako. Me.

I let all this happen.

Who were we any more? Where we ever friends? Are we musicians or barbarians? What are friends? Why did we ever form a band if it was going to end up this way?

Who were those people? The ones who I used to laugh with and mess around with?

I'd never seen Hannya look so depressed. Or Hyottoko so self-cautious. Beshimi so…brave… or Shikijo such a show off. To top everything off; I'd never seen Aoshi do anything like what he just did. I felt horrible.

Where had my best friends gone? Who were these money-grumbling people in the next room? What were they to me?

Most of all, who was I?

I learned my lesson with Soujiro. Why didn't I help them learn what I did? So many questions with few little answers. Or maybe there was an answer! There still was time to help them.

My mind was made up.

I knew what I had to do.

I knew what I was going to do the moment I exited the room they barricaded me in.

"You guys," I called over the loud discussion going on. "I've made a decision." They all looked over at me, bottles of booze in their hand and cigarettes in their mouths.

"I'm leaving the band."

* * *

_Next chapter should take place from the very first chapter where I was ranting about Club 27. I'll fit the club in somewhere in my last chapter as an explaination. Review please! _


	6. Break on through

I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts here they are standing in the road. Big ones, small ones, some as big as your head. Whoot Whoot! Finished! Rod the Roster--I--I mean, Rod Stewart.

* * *

Chapter Six: Break On Through

"If you marry me, would you bury me, would you carry me to the end?"

–My Chemical Romance

If you've never heard the song It's A Long Way to the Top, then, get off your butt, run to the store, and buy AC/DC's TNT album. That song is my personal anthem. I don't mean it like some people do with Simple Plan's Welcome to My Life. I mean, I could relate to that song and all, but once you start asking Fuse to air your messages about how the song is killing you softly with it's words; how can I say loser in the least noticeable way? The most positive thing I can say about Simple Plan is that David looks great with eyeliner on.

Some people think that rock stars have it made. They think all we do is sing a song or two, then spend the rest of the day dropping acid. Here; let me say this loud and clear:

L – O – S – E – R.

That clear enough? Good. I wanted to make sure you noticed it.

Being a rock star is so much harder than it looks. Talk to all of them (if you can. I don't want you to get arrested or anything). See if they give you a 100 positive answer. Some people think that being a rock star means getting wasted. Heck, some wannabe rock stars think that, too!

Hell, no!

I admit that I dropped acid one. Once. And I never did it again. I still can't believe I did it. I was a huge idiot back then. (I was hallucinating all week and threw up for five hours straight.) Then again, we all were idiots back then. But at least I noticed it and turned myself around (when you throw up for five hours... you better notice it!).

The difference between me and the other guys is that I realized that what I was doing was wrong. (Obviously) That's the problem with Club 27 members (besides the fact that they all pretty much lived in the 60s). They didn't think about what they were doing. Alcohol. That junk is used to freaking clean cuts and stuff! Heroine. I certainly don't want that crap in my bloodstream. Cigarettes. This is what confuses me. Everybody knows it kills you, yet they still do it! Have you ever gone up and tried to have a conversation with a wall? Has it ever answered back? (If it has, I know a great doctor who could help you.)

But here's the main thing about Club 27 members: they hung out with the wrong people. People who claimed to be their friends, but introduced them to stuff that would eventually kill them. But, then again, this was the 60s. You know; free love/sex, freaking out, LSD, abortion left and right, pot, weed, and dope. Getting drunk was _so_ 50s.

All right. Let me cease my preaching for a moment and recap on the events that have occurred while I was boring you with my public monologue. Ready? This is a huge announcement. All ready? Ready? Ready? Ready?

Allow me to announce that:

AOSHI HAS FINALLY RETURNED MY CALLS!

But, the first time he called, I wasn't home. He left a message on my machine, but when I had tried to call him back, his housekeeper told me he was out.

Now, let me describe my reunion with him.

I decided to go out to the nearby record store (I'm out of my old hood) to chill and wait for the right moment to call Aoshi again. Just to kill an hour or so, I walked there. I usually didn't walk anymore; I take the bus. I used to loathe taking the bus with such a passion, it wasn't funny. Now, I love it! The first time I boarded, I swear, I saw a Marilyn Monroe look a like.

Anyway, back to the record store. I was simply wandering around it, when I turned into the O-P aisle, and BAM! Guess who I slam into? (I'll give you a hint: he's super tall). Aoshi.

He was just standing over the Os with our first record, Kyoto Arch, in his hands. He hadn't even noticed that I'd walked into him until I rested my arm against his shoulder and gazed down at the cover along with him. Instead of dropping the CD, screaming my name, and pulling me into a long awaited kiss, like I hoped he would, he simply draped his arm about my shoulders and drew me close, continuing to stare at the album. Not that I was complaining!

"Why aren't we like that anymore?" he asked suddenly, referring to the cover.

I looked down at it. We were all seated against a graffiti infested wall with our matching, trademark, homemade, torn up jeans, the most random shirts ever (mine said "yum pop" and had a frog, panda, bunny, and monkey on it), and traditional black and white all star converses. I had my head on Aoshi's shoulder and his head was over mine, Behsimi had his cheek against my arm, Hyottoko on his, Hannya was resting his arm on Aoshi's shoulder, and Shikijo simply leaned toward the wall.

"Because we forgot," I replied.

He set the CD down and pulled out our next album; Floor 13. The one thing that sticks to me about this album, was when Aoshi and me were supposed to be in the bed and looking toward the camera, since I was lying on my back, I had to crane upward and practically stand on my head. Of course, on the first shoot, I had to slip. I ended up kicking Aoshi hard in the shins, causing him to loose his balance over me and fall so violently, that the bed collapsed. The other guys were laughing so hard, that Beshimi had to run to the bathroom to pee.

"Forgot what?" Aoshi asked placing the album back and wrapping his free arm around my waist, standing behind me.

"About why we started the band in the first place. About who we were. About what was truly important."

He nodded absently. All of a sudden, a tremendous shudder ran through his body and he heaved a great sigh. "It was my fault," he repeated over and over again. "It was my fault,"

I had to drag him out of the store before we cause a scene. You'd expect more of a guy who spent one year in Japan meditating and learning self-control. At least I did.

* * *

The worst song to have stuck in your head ever is I Shot the Sheriff. That song was playing over and over and over again for the strangest reason in my head. It was torture! I, like, died. _I shot the sheriff, but I did not shoot the deputy. I shot the sheriff, but I did not shoot the deputy…._ GAAAHHH! I have learned the meaning of Odysseus and thank goodness my parents never named me that. 

"Hey, Misao," I swung around on my swirly chair to face Aoshi who was seated on the couch with his guitar in his lap and a large stack of flyers on the floor next to him. "What was it like having braces?" he asked handing me a flyer.

And here I thought he came back clean. He's gotta lay off whatever he's been taking. "Hell," was all I could say about my three years of torture. I mean, c'mon! The wires, the blisters, the calluses, the tightening… It was hell. For my mouth. I glanced down at the flyer.

_The Oniwa Band thinks you're beautiful._

Aoshi got up and headed for the door. There was no way I'd let him get away that fast.

"Hold it, Shinomori!" I shouted, brandishing the flyer at him. "You give me a flyer that tells me I'm beautiful and then, just walk away?" the nerve of him.

"Actually, Misao," it was Hannya. And the other guys. And their instruments. "Those flyers are for the fans. Since we're planning a comeback and all."

My face dropped into a scowl. "I don't care about the fans! I wanna know about me?" Relax. I'm playing. "And of all the sayings, why beautiful?"

Beshimi shrugged. "It was Okina's idea,"

Well, that made sense. Only Jiya could think something like that up. I have learned never to get my hopes up when it came to Aoshi. Just then, Hannya dropped his guitar and slumped against the wall. Alarmed, all of us looked toward him.

"Hannya?" Aoshi questioned, concerned.

Hannya straightened up and looked over at all of us. "I…" he hesitated. "I… have a confession to make,"

I jumped the gun. "You've been smoking pot, haven't you? Or you've been taking LSD? Or maybe you're taking pills—"

"Or maybe, Misao, he's been sniffing glue," Aoshi remarked sarcastically. He returned his attention to Hannya. "What's up?"

Okay, maybe he's wasn't doing drugs. But he was in a depressed state at one point. Maybe he hasn't gotten over it. He continued to speak.

"Look, guys, I'm sorry, but I feel like I've been using you since Misao called up again asking if we wanted to get back together for a show or two," I cocked my head. Okay, I'm officially lost. "To be honest, I need the money. I'm not flat broke or anything, but I don't have enough money to do what I've been planning to do for the last… three months."

"What's that?" Shikijo asked.

Hannya faltered. He looked over at me as if asking for help. Hey, buddy. No matter how much I love ya, I have no idea what you're asking. "Misao, I, uh, I actually have been using you guys. The only reason I decided to rejoin the band was for money."

"Hannya," Aoshi interrupted. "Just answer the question."

"IaskedOmasutomarryme,"

It seemed as if I was the only one who caught that. "Omasu? Okina's daughter?" Yo, that rocked! I loved Omasu. She was my homie! I loved her.

"Awesomeness, Hannya!" I shouted.

He blinked. "You're… not mad?"

The other guys were pinned up against the wall in shock. I gave them the look. They attempted to loosen up. I turned back to Hannya. " 'Course not. Why should we be? I don't know about them, but I'm happy for you! Omasu is awesome!"

He nodded. "She helped me when I was in the hospital. She made me feel better about myself and about the mistakes I'd made." I pursed my lips and nodded. Suddenly, Hannya grabbed his guitar again and flung it across his shoulder. "Now," he continued sounding a little more cheery. "I have a question,"

Aoshi found his voice. "Ask it,"

"What are we gonna do now?"

I grinned and fetched my bass out from under the couch. (I hadn't played it in six months.) Hyottoko had been making cake this morning (I don't know why) and I had about five pieces. Now, I am so hyped up on sugar, that…I'm hyper. "Here's what we're gonna do," I cleared my throat and slung my bass over my shoulder. "Find a way to kick major hardcore butt!"

"Amen to that,"

* * *

You know how it is. The blazing, white hot lights… the shuddering stadium…. The screaming people…. That jumping feeling you get from the tips of your toes to the middle of your chest. I haven't felt that since our last concert five years ago. But, here I am, five years later, standing backstage to the very stage I had my last concert! I was practically doing cartwheels in the dressing room. 

"Misao, can you calm yourself?" Hannya asked, getting aggravated.

I gasped and pointed behind him. "Oh, my goth! Look, Omasu came to see you off!"

He whirled hurriedly and almost fell over. All for nothing. I'm such a stinker, ain't I? "Made you look,"

Somehow, Aoshi managed to talk me into wearing one of those Macy's Barbie skirts and a Sex Pistols long sleeved shirt. I finally dug up one of those "Chuck E. Cheese" high, high tops (traditionally colored) and these pretty gloves that looked as if they were tattoos of black roses on my hands. In return, I managed to get him to grow his hair out, wear chick pants and a Led Zepplin tee. I can be very persuasive.

"Misao," guess who. "What song do you want to play first?"

I shrugged. "What ever comes to mind,"

Aoshi shifted from foot to foot. "Uhhh, do you mind that I make an announcement before the show starts?"

I glanced over at him. Lately, he's been really hesitant and distant. I can't stand when people are indecisive around me. I personally don't care. You wanna jump off the roof, go ahead. I won't stop you! Don't go asking my opinion. "Sure, do what you want,"

He drew a deep breath, then nodded and walked off.

After an hour or so of waiting, and an eternity of boredom, we were called on stage. I shocked me to see so many people there to see us. There we a few groups of people who were holding up gigantic signs saying:

Are We Beautiful?

It made me laugh. We set up quickly and assembled on stage without falling over again. You know, like Joey. I took hold of the mic and shouted into it:

"How's everybody doing tonight?"

Their reaction reminded me a bit of the Beatles' tours where girls screamed so hard they fainted and cops had to drag them out either on stretchers or by their feet.

Just then, Aoshi grabbed the mic from me. Everyone knew, that once Aoshi had the mic, it was serious. The stadium fell silent. Only a light buzz could be heard throughout the building.

"Before the show begins tonight, I'd like to make a quick… question and announcement…" he glanced back at Hannya whose eyes twinkled. Aoshi turned to face me. As of now, I felt as if someone had stepped out of a time portal in the middle of my room and asked where the cows were. You know? CONFUSION!

Before I knew it, Aoshi had gotten on one knee in front of me and took my hand. "Misao? I know we went through difficult times and that I almost lost your friendship. I used you a couple of times and got on your back at least three times an hour—"

"Four," I interjected dully. What was happening?

"Four. I was a jerk, and I know I was. I admit it… but… would you be willing to have a jerk, such as me, at your side forever?"

Holy smokes! OH MY GOSH! AM I DREAMING OR DELLUSIONAL OR SOMETHING! Did I hear him right? Am I taking this too literally?

"What I'm trying to ask you, Misao, is: Will you marry me?"

My voice failed me. My brain failed me. My body simply stopped functioning! Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating a bit, but—whoa! This was unexpected. Would you have expected that? Be honest with me? And Aoshi of all people. If it had been… Kenshin or someone (Kenshin asked Kaoru out. He met her when I brought her to a press conference with me. Big, big mistake. She went psycho) it might have been believable. (Kenshin's gotten over Tomoe, by the way. Found out that she was this Japanese model). But Aoshi?

What should I say? What could I say? Here I was standing on a stage with over a billion people watching me. My every move. Awaiting my answer. This was Aoshi. I was Misao. We were the Oniwa Band. These were our fans. This was my life. This could be ours… What would I say?

Did I possibly have the power to say no?

Break on through to the other side and I'll meet you there.

* * *

Yeah, yeah! I'm done! My first complete story! I originally wanted Rod Steward's Maggie May in this chapter, but when I was writing it, it didn't look right, if you were wondering where the Roster thing came from. Well, all done. Please, I really enjoyed writing this, so if you read it, could you be kind enough to leave a review? Please? Okay, so long and good night! Oh, I don't own Rurouni Kenshin, but this story I do. Yum pop is a lable I found on this packet of socks I dug out of my drawers. 


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